Lost Treasures
by 1don't3know2
Summary: "..it's better to have loved then lost, than never to love at all..." whosoever had said needs to be punched in the gut. I have loved, still love and have had it ripped from me. Now she doesn't even view me as a friend. She hates my guts, because of how she awoke. Now I don't show any but my best friend the real me. I hide. I will continue, until I've gotten back my Lost Treasure.


**Dear readers of my other story, I probably should have mentioned this beforehand but, I am lazy which means that some stories that I may or may not write may stop eventually when I either lose the originals or I start to get tired. Again I am very sorry. **

**This is a new fanfic I started sometime this week. Pucklebery broship (way…. More advanced and closer than a friendship). Santana/Puck friendship and Pezberry relationship, one's crazy, the other one's out of their mind.**

**Disclaimer: This does not belong to me. They're too hot to belong to me. Instead the rights of Glee belong to Fox and whoever else created in this semi-master piece.**

**Do epic, terrifying, unheard of shit. Whatever makes you happy. And drugs. And other "bad" things. And fall in love. If nothing else, fall in love.**

There are certain things that mankind can't live without: food, shelter, love and friendship. I've found the last two through some very important persons. My friendship has been the longest relationship of my life, outside my family. That space has been occupied by my very best friend, someone who helped me through all my patches. Love; however, I had, lost it and fought for it. I've worked hard to get where I am today: Happy. Yeah, it might be because today's the last day of high school, but I'm pretty sure it's more than just that. I think it's because of the two persons who've held my heart for years, my two best friends.

_I met Noah at age 4 and a half, maybe even before then but this is how far back I can remember._

As soon as my fathers and I stepped onto the pavement leading to the synagogue, the sounds of a tantrum could be heard. My fathers paid it no heed, used to the tantrums I threw weekly, they brushed it off easily. But I couldn't.

There was a young boy dressed in his traditional garments, a long black pants and his long sleeve shirt. He was being held by his mother also dressed similarly. A tall man shabbily dressed man was with them, in front of a grey Sedan '98 model. I examined the little boy. He seemed my age. Their voices got louder the closer we got to the synagogue. I found myself unable to take my gaze from the boy. I stopped in my tracks as I saw the man reach for the boy, raising his hand to hit him. I sprinted to the family and wedged myself between the father and his son, ignoring my fathers' cries.

"Rachel", my Daddy Hiriam called. I paid him no mind, gazing defiantly up at the boy's father. The man ignored me and reached over my head to grab at the boy's Kippah. As he pulled at it, I backed the boy up further into his mother after hearing his cry her hands tightened further around him. His face began to redden upon sensing my future defiance.

"What do you think you're doing sir?" I question intensifying my hard gaze at the man. His face colored even further with rage upon hearing what I had said. He moved to push me out the way but I nimbly dodged his hand taking a step backwards and back the mother and son pair even farther from the man. The man if possible got even more enraged, if possible.

"You little piece…." He lunged at me far quicker than I was used to and back handed me to the ground. My eyes filled with three things, tears, hatred- not fear- complete and utter rage. He looked down at me with barely concealed contempt and once more moved to strike. This time Hiriam however, intercepted him, grabbing his hand in a crushing grip.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" my father questioned," How dare you lay a slimy hand on my child?"

He took a step forward gripping hand even tighter in his anger. I was so absorbed in the scene that I failed to notice the crowd starting to form and my father joining me on the concrete. I was broken out my hate filled trance at the feel of a calloused hand cupping my cheek. I winced at the pain and looked at the owner of the hand to find Leroy's face crumpled and his eyes filled with tears, I knew wouldn't fall.

_This was the first time I saw my Dad cry._

His face was worn with anguish. I managed a grin through the pain.

"I'm okay Dad."

He also managed a small smile a tear rolling down his cheek.

"I know baby."

His gaze was drawn to the other side of me, his face flooded with sympathy. I turned to find the little boy, I saved sitting in his mother's lap clinging to each other.

I misread the situation completely.

I thought they were worried for the man so I climbed into my father's lap, turned to them and said, "I'm sorry, Ma'am. I didn't mean to interfere but I couldn't let him hurt either of you. But that man is bad. My dad helps to put away men like him; daddy stopped him from hitting me again before he would let Dad take over. I'm sure that Daddy wouldn't hurt him- unless he attacks Daddy first that is." I finished with a thoughtful pout.

The woman looked up, placed a kiss on her son's head.

"It's nice of you to apologize, young one, but truthfully the fact is you did what I wasn't able to do. And for that I'm thankful. You're a brave child, one your fathers should be proud of. You protected us, complete stranger, you should be applauded."

She managed a small smile before more tears rushed down her face. Her son move to sit in her lap pulling her close to his chest. He wiped the tears from his face.

"I will always be in your debt"

"That's alright. Just be my friend. I don't have that many friends." My father's hands tightened around me in guilt.

"Always-"

Our conversation was interrupted by the sounds of a nose breaking and someone's pained cry. Our eyes snapped to the source.

"You broke my nose you bastardly fagot," the man stated his voice muffled. There was blood gushing out of the wound, pouring out of his hands, he clutched at his nose. I looked to my Daddy. There were blood splatters on his Rekel and blood dripping down his left hand, his right clutching his left side. It was obvious he was in pain.

My musings were broken by the sounds of a siren. The crowd that had formed around the confrontation parted dramatically to let through two cops. Apparently, someone had called the police. I was surprised they were here so quickly. I looked to my watch to get the time only to see my reflection looking back at me.

Moses, I thought, but obviously out loud as all eyes snapped to me. The first cop gasped and took a step forward, while the second cop turned to glare at the two men, my father and the boy's father. The crowd, my new friend, his mother and my fathers eyes were glued to my face, their sympathy evident. Their reactions were expected. One side of my face looked as it was run over by a tricycle. There was immense swelling to the side of my face, and discoloration had started. It was a mess. A mess that was caused by my soon to be friend's father, was what I told the cops. Not only did I tell the cops, but everyone did. Everyone who saw what had happened had recounted the tale.

'… _my father had been holding the man's left hand in a crushing grip._

"_You fucking prick let me go, I wanna show that little son of a bitch a lesson," the man had seethed._

_My Daddy's hand just clenched tighter, "That little girl is my daughter and I will not say this again please refrain from touching my child or alluding, insinuating or outright saying you will harm my child. This was all a misunderstanding that could have been solved if you hadn't acted so rashly."_

"_That whore of a wife shouldn't be carrying my boy to no Jew church, wearing a gay little dress and that garbage on his head."_

"_Your wife is doing a great job of teaching your son, how to behave. You are not. You should be proud the clothing your son is wearing is the traditional Jewish garb; it is in no way gay. Moreover if he was gay there isn't anything wrong with it. My family seems to be doing just fine. The way you're acting seems to mean that you've done this before probably even physically and emotionally harming both the son and his mother." He had turned his head to gaze fondly at his family, and then took in the bruises on the man's wife._

"_In fact I'm willing to bet that-", he never got to finish his sentence as a foot connected solidly to his left side. He winced blocking the incoming punch from the man, a rib was broken, he surmised. This is going to hurt. After blocking the punch his right hand pulled the man forward by his left hand, while simultaneously jabbing forward with his left hand and kneeing the man in the gut. The resulting crack of his nose break was sweet music to his ears. "No son of a bitch messes with my family and gets away with it, especially if he attacks me," he thought with a internal chuckle. He grabbed at his side with his right hand as blood was on his other hand and that would ruin his Rekel. "Wait," he thought looking down, "Too late."_

"_You broke my nose you bastardly fagot…." '_

"Hey," the boy said as I opened the front door. My fathers had said I come open the door to anyone who came because they were going to bring my surprise. Apparently he was my surprise. I t was the same boy I had helped at the synagogue last week.

"I had realized that I didn't know your name or where you lived so I couldn't visit you as I had wanted to and I couldn't wait till Sunday, so I begged my mom to call. And here I am," he gestured wildly with a growing grin.

"Yup here you are. My name is Rachel Berry," I said with a grin "What's yours?"

He replied with a large grin sticking out his hand, "Noah, Noah Puckerman."

**Ok people, I know this probably sucks and all, and there'll probably be changes made to it by the end of the weekend I wanted to post it so in case of anything the world has more things for me to be remembered by. I want to thank you all for your honest reviews and I hope I'll receive more. **

**The reason Noah is the only one we see here is because this is how they meet, remember the epic broship. It's the beginning please be patient. This time I'm gonna save my work before I leave cause I don't anyone angry at me. I like to make people happy- no matter how much I don't like people.**

**Santana will be in the next chapter. Oh and btw just a little extra: Santana is gonna be ignored so badly by these troublesome two. **

**1 question: In high school should Rachel show off her awesomeness in Fight club or should she keep it hidden until attacked when out with the Glee club because of Fight Club or should someone see the bruises?**


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